


Prototype 2074

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Jackbots - Freeform, Lydia runs things, M/M, No Sex, Peter's a robot, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 07:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17617715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: I got dragged into this!So this time, Stiles works for HaleCorp and Peter's a bot he's been working on. But he's Peter, so he's not one to be controlled by something as silly as programming.





	Prototype 2074

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bunnywest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/gifts).



> Bunny's fault! Thanks for starting this bit of silliness!
> 
> If you haven't read the Chris/Victoria fic, go read Adaptive by DiscontentedWinter in this same collection!

 

It’s kind of a dream job, if he’s honest. Not exactly what Stiles thought he’d be doing when he was in his hated science classes in high school, but working for HaleCorp is amazing. He’s in R&D, working on programming to make the bots even more useful. Of course, if he can reduce expenses for HaleCorp, that’s appreciated, too, but it’s not his main job objective. He’s given a lot of freedom for whatever he wants to work on, looking to put out the next big thing in bots.

There’s not a huge amount of competition, everyone knows ArgentCorp’s bots are a step down from theirs; there’s a rumour that the Argents (Hot Daddy and Spree Killer Lady) secretly purchased a Hale bot for themselves. Stiles isn’t sure if that’s true or not, but damn, he hopes so. And that the videos leak.

Right now, he’s working on Prototype 2074, affectionately known as Prt 2074. Or as Stiles calls him, Peter. It’s hard not to call the bot by a name, they look so human. Well, the ones Stiles works on look human because he’s creeped out by the ones without faces. Yeah, some engineers like to work on them without faces, but Stiles thinks it’s like working on Slenderman or something. So you put a face on it and then you have to call it something and that’s how Peter was born. Or something.

And yeah, he’s customized Peter so he finds him attractive, but after all, Stiles’ taste in men isn’t all that unusual for a healthy bisexual 28 year old. Add in that Stiles is at work six days a week, for twelve hours plus, and you may as well make your project as attractive as possible. They’re about the same height, but while Stiles is wiry, Peter’s a chunk of muscle on top of a bit more muscle. And a thick head of hair and a sharp goatee and lips that are quick to smirk. Blue, blue eyes that follow Stiles around in his lab as he works.

“Okay, Peter, let me check that one more time.”

Peter sighs and hands Stiles a cord, plugging it into the port behind his ear. “It’s fine, Stiles, I’ve told you, I’ve run my own diagnostics and your coding is right.”

“And I’ve told you, Peter, if your diagnostics aren’t set right, you won’t be able to check your own programming, now will you?” Stiles glances over, shaking his head, as Peter backs up to a lab table, and easily jumps to sit on it. Fucking biceps. Or thighs. Or both. He really needs to get out more.

“Then maybe you need to work on that part; if you create better diagnostic programs, then I can take care of that while you do more…” He waves his hand, and then pulls over a file with schematics on it. “Whatever it is that you’re working on.”

“Hey, no need to be snarky about it, and I’m working on diagnostics. I think that would be a good update. And put that folder down, it’s none of your business. Shit, do I need to put everything away from you?” he asks, rolling his chair over and yanks the file out of the bot’s hands. “What are you, six?”

Peter scratches his head, shifting on the table, and Stiles tries not to watch the muscles in his thighs shift. The bot’s dressed in medical scrubs, same as most bots when they’re being worked on. No need to distract himself more than necessary. Peter’s neck is already distracting enough. Honestly, he’s so damn good looking, there’s no way anyone would think of him as anything other than a jackbot.

“Stiles, is there something I can help you with? It’s a sincere offer, you know I’m capable of quite a few calculations.”

“No, not really, but thanks, Peter. Maybe you should read a book or something.”

Peter does a quick jump off the table and sighs again, looking around the room. “Are you hungry? Maybe you should take a break and have something to eat.”

“Kinda busy here, big guy. I think I’ve found something interesting.”

“Well, _I’m_ interesting and I’m bored!”

Stiles drops the pen he was chewing on and turns his chair back towards Peter. “Well, okay. That _is_ interesting.”

 

“What do you mean, you changed your own programming? You can’t do that.” Stiles looks at the lines of code flashing by, fed from the cord plugged into Peter’s neck.

The bot snorts quietly and says, “Well no one told _me_ that.”

“No, no I mean, you shouldn’t be able to do that. You shouldn’t be able to change your coding to, to, to develop emotions. You aren’t coded for creating that sort of thing.” He glances over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “Although, yeah, you should know you don’t have permission for that kind of thing. You should have reported it to me.”

Peter looks to the ceiling, which he does when he checks his programming. “I don’t think so, Stiles. I’m afraid you missed that programming.”

“Here, I’m going to try to see what the fuck you’re doing and you, read the internet.” Stiles plugs him into a spare laptop, and turns back to his own. There should be something here and hopefully he can figure out what it is. Before he has to confess to Lydia and this whole thing blows up.

 

It’s not long before Peter unplugs himself, standing and stretching. “Well, that was interesting. Bit contradictory in places, but helpful, I think. What are you doing?”

“Checking on what’s going on with you.” Stiles studies Peter for a second, watching the bot’s smirk grow. “How would you feel about shutting down?”

“I can. If you order me to, that’s in my first level of programming. I doubt I could override it even if I wanted to,” Peter says taking a step back. “I’m willing to try though.”

He’s no longer meeting Stiles’ eyes and if Stiles had to assign him an emotion (which bots should not have) he’d say that Peter’s feelings are hurt. Yesterday, he would have said that’s impossible, but now, he’s pretty sure that Peter’s emotions are on his face. His stupid, handsome face with a personality that Stiles likes. “No, don’t. It’s weird now. Anything you saw online you want to talk about?”

“Not really, I think I understand what I saw. Not understand, exactly, I mean there are people who seriously believe the U.S. government is poisoning their own water supply to turn frogs gay? Who are these people?” Peter asks, pointing to the laptop. “Other than that sort of thing, I think I understand, overall.”

“Yeah, sorry about the gay frog stuff, the internet is a weird place. Lotsa strange and wonderful things for you.”

Peter’s grin has to be called filthy and Stiles remembers he is, first and foremost, a sex bot. “I found your recent searches, Stiles. Speaking of strange and wonderful.”

“Yeah, I should have known this would happen, I’m gonna die.”

 

Lydia looks around Stiles’ lab, circling the bot standing by his desk. He’s changed and he’s now  in a white Henley and tight, black jeans. Nicely polished boots complete his ensemble. Simple, but attractive and Lydia knows, physically, he’s exactly Stiles’ type. “You said it’s urgent I come down here, code red, panic in the streets? What’s going on, Stiles?”

“Yeah, I found a little…glitch? In programming? With this bot, the PRT 2074. I thought you should get a demo and tell me what you – what the company wants done.” He takes off his glasses, scrubbing his tired eyes. He hasn’t slept for more than a couple of hours since Peter did his grand announcement. “He’s got emotions, Lyds. Feelings, like real feelings. And he’s changing his own programming.”

She looks at the bot, who watches her, slight smile on his lips. “Direct question, PRT 2074. Do you have emotions?”

The bot blinks and says, “No. Emotions are not within my range of programming.”

Stiles pokes Peter in the chest and snarls, “Liar! You fucking liar! Peter, you know damn well you have emotions, stop lying!”

“I’m not able to override my programming, Stiles. You’ve programmed me yourself so I can’t lie to you, my creator.” Peter’s expression is one of confusion, and Stiles is again impressed by how human the synthskin looks, wrinkles between the bot’s eyebrows.

“Stiles, are you sure? I do have a lot of things to do before I leave for the day and some of us do actually like to leave for the day.” She walks around Peter once more, looking at the play of muscles that move as he – it – simulates breathing. “Yelling at it doesn’t seem to be working. Perhaps you’ve been working too many hours and you’re misjudging things? I’m sure you’ve run your diagnostics on its programming; do you need someone else to take a look? New eyes, and all that.”

“Maybe? Maybe it would help, maybe I’m…” Stiles turns to Peter and stomps on his foot as hard as he can.

“What the fuck, Stiles?” Peter yells out, stepping back to hop back on the table. “You little bitch, just because my bones will heal, doesn’t mean you should break them!”

Stiles grabs Lydia’s arm, turning her towards Peter. “See! That’s not right! He’s not supposed to be angry like that and I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to call me names!”

“No, that is unusual for most basic programming.” Lydia crosses her arms, approaching the bot. “Do you need repairs? Or can you self-repair?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” Peter tells her, shooting an angry look at Stiles. He rubs his boots on the back of his shin and says, “And you scuffed my boots.”

“Well. I mean aside from the sarcasm, and I might be responsible for that, he’s not right, Lydia. Actually, he’s really right, if you want someone who has a sense of humor and emotions and is hot like smoking.” Stiles scratches his head and shrugs. “And you know, not alive, technically.”

“Not alive at all,” Lydia says, studying Peter, which means looking up at him. Even with her heels, she still needs to look up at him, which – if Peter were a human – Stiles would say Peter’s enjoying it. “This is interesting, Stiles. You set up the programming originally, correct?”

“Yeah, I mean, it had the basics and then I added in and then it’s like he took over.”

Lydia turns back to Peter and pulls out her phone, keying in quickly. “Give yourself credit, Stiles. We’ve been working on advanced programming. Not exactly like this, but, it’s interesting after all.”

“You said Ms. Martin’s smart.” Peter hops down off the table, approaching Stiles. “So now what?”

“I don’t think this is what Stiles intended to work on and I’m a bit concerned. I think you should power down.” She nods to Stiles and then waits for Peter to act. “Now. Please.”

For the first time since Stiles has ‘known’ him, Peter looks worried. “I’d rather not.” He looks at Stiles and asks, “Is this it? Will you bring me back or…”

Stiles turns to Lydia and just looks at her, waiting for her to say something, to hopefully change her mind. “Lydia, come on, I know this isn’t expected, but are you thinking to decommission him or something?”

“Hale Corporation is cutting edge and Ms. Martin here is smart. If there _is_ programming that allows bots to make decisions, to make judgment calls, learn from experience –“

“Yeah! Bots can be used for more than just sex toys!”

Peter nods and tries to continue, “Really, if you think of the practical applications, bots could be used for functions that are too dangerous for humans. Police officers, or fire fighters for example.”

Stiles nods, finding himself standing closer to Peter. “Yeah, Lydia, and with the ability to make decisions based on what’s happening in front of them, we really could offer something valuable.”

She holds up a hand, hushing them both. “I know. We know, this type of advanced programming is what Jackson’s area is working on.”

“Jackson? Lydia’s not-overly-clever boyfriend?” Peter quietly asks, getting a nod back from Stiles and a scowl from Lydia.

“Is that how you feel, Stiles? Because that’s where I think this project would make the most sense. Jackson’s working on bot programming for law enforcement and I think fire fighters makes sense, too.”

“There could be military applications, I suppose,” Stiles says, crossing his arms as he thinks this through. “Not my favorite idea; I didn’t come here to create cogs for the machine.”

Lydia shakes her head and pushes a stray curl off her face. “Talia is against that application, although she does seem willing to talk about police and I’ll mention fire fighters; that might make her feel less…dirty, I guess.”

“If it helps, I’m sure you’ll increase sales in sexbots as well.” Peter grins, raising an eyebrow at Lydia. “I’m sure there’s people who didn’t want to buy one when that’s their well-known main function. Now they can order a personal home security bot and oh, well, it just happens to come with some extra equipment and knowledge.”

“You know, if there’s going to be some that are purely security or going into hazardous situations, there’s no reason to give them a gender at all.” Stiles thinks for another minute and then grabs some paper from a table, scrawling notes. “You’d want faces of course, because humans would recognize that, but there’s no reason to give them the, the plumbing stuff.”

“Okay, okay, enough, both of you.” Lydia huffs and taps at her phone. “Here’s the plan: give me about thirty minutes and I’ll get you clearance to leave here with your… your lab partner.”

Peter smiles while Stiles blinks, trying to process for himself what that might mean.

“Do not come back until I call you, which will probably be, oh, the day after tomorrow. I’ll give Talia an update and tell Jackson that he’s working with you and that you have solutions for where he’s stuck,” Lydia says, not looking up as she types. “Enjoy your day off, and do _not_ try to go into your projects because I’m moving things around.” She raises an eyebrow at Peter, smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to actually trust you to keep him from messing this up.”

 

Stiles slumps down against the wall, watching the glass doors to the lab shut as Lydia’s heels click down the hall. “Well, shit, I did not expect that.” He looks over at Peter, who’s still grinning. “Stop looking so smug, you ass. You have to work with Jackson; he’ll hate you. He likes to think he’s the prettiest one here, bot or not.”

“He’ll get used to being wrong about a lot of things,” Peter shrugs and holds out a hand to pull Stiles up. “We have a few minutes before we can leave. It only takes you six minutes on average to pack up for the day.”

“Not at all creepy that you know that.” He steps chest-to-chest with Peter, tracing the edge of his goatee with the back of a finger. “This is creepy, this, with you and me. Honestly, your programming doesn’t leave you with the ability to give consent. You’re like real and I feel like this isn’t right, but…”

“I’m not human if that’s what you’re saying. But remember, my body was created to feel pleasure, because that bonds bots to our owners.” Peter doesn’t give Stiles a chance to answer before kissing him gently, enough that Stiles catches up and kisses him back. “You’re my owner and I’m yours.”

They’re interrupted when Stiles’ phone beeps with a text. “Lydia says we can go. She’s meeting with Talia in an hour. Hopefully, she’ll agree and I’ll still have a job.”

“Of course you will, weren’t you listening? You’re basically getting a promotion. Obviously, right now, Jackson has a higher position than you do, and now you’ll be his equal.”

“That’s what you heard?” Stiles asks, shoving his laptop into its bag and gathering the things he’ll want to take home for a day or so. Dammit, he’s done in just over six minutes.

“Of course, you’re the wunderkind.” Peter takes the bags from Stiles, tossing them easily over his shoulder. “The wunderkind who needs to go home and get a spanking.”

Stiles slams on his brakes and Peter easily moves around him. “What did you say?”

“I told you I read your internet history. Come on, darling, give me the keys, I’m sure I’ll be able to drive." 

 

 


End file.
